Child 44: Clumsy
by Louis Williams
Summary: Yaoi: NesterovXLeo. Nesterov doesn't trust Leo when he's transferred to Voualsk as the General's Junior Officer, in the militia. However, his feelings begin to change. Rated M for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1: Prelude

Clumsy

Leo was clumsy. No questions about it.

General Timur Nesterov knew that almost as soon as the young man was transferred to his militia. At first, Leo seemed competent and collected, and looked like he had all his wits about him all the time. But, after a few missions, after a few days there, in each others' company, Nesterov found himself laughing quietly behind his new subordinate's back.  
Leo was the clumsiest man he'd ever seen, in his entire forty years of life.

There were countless times where they returned from missions and operations, and Leo was covered, from head-to-toe in half-melted snow clods. There were countless times that Leo sent the papers he was carrying through the militia headquarters flying, by accidentally tripping over nothingness.

Nesterov found this behaviour obnoxious and disruptive at first, but, over the period of about two or three days, he found it quite entertaining.

However, on the fourth day of carefully observing his new _uchastkovvy_, he realised that he was no longer observing him for the sake of protecting his department, and ensuring that this MGB officer was not here to destroy him and his other militia officers.

No; subconsciously, he was observing him -watching him – because he was beginning to find him attractive. He knew this, but he didn't want to admit to anyone that he was falling for his clumsy junior officer.

That would be obstructive to his entire department.


	2. Chapter 2: Distrust

**READ THIS FIRST, BITCHES.**

This story is based DURING the events of the book, BUT... some of the events HAVE BEEN **CHANGED **for the sake of a fluffy/smutty yaoi story (don't worry. There shall be smut).

I do not own "Child 44", OKAY? I wish I did, but I don't. The "Child 44" franchise belongs entirely to the brilliant Tom Rob Smith. ~**Bows down to his brilliance~.**

**Ummm... **It occurs to me that there are more pairings/mentions-to-pairings in this story.

The main one is NesterovXLeo, but there is also VasiliXLeo, and MoiseyevXLeo.

**'Cause. Leo IS the Ultimate Leather Daddy.**

**I APOLOGISE IF THIS STORY OFFENDS ANYONE, OR DEFILES THE CHARACTERS, BUT HEY. IT'S WHAT I'M INTO. BITCHES.**

**Note: **

_This is someone talking. This is how it was written in the original book._

29 March 1953

_Let go._

_Not until you answer my question. Why do -_

_Let go._

_Why do you wear this?_

_Let go of it, Moiseyev._

Nesterov turned his head toward the noise, as he passed by Leo's office; the office that he shared with Moiseyev.

Moiseyev, who was little more than a thug in a uniform, with his cropped and choppy black hair, and wild hazel eyes, had Leo's scarf gripped tightly in one hand. The other hand was resting on his hip.

Leo looked annoyed, but indifferent to the man's invading of his personal space.

_You're a soldier, Leo. You are meant to be a man. Men do not wear things like this. Women do._

Leo pushed the irritating man aside, frowning solidly at him, before readjusting his black scarf and turning away toward one of the desks in the room. Nesterov chuckled and shook his head, moving away to his own office.

Ever since Leo had been transferred here, he was ostracised by most of the other men in the Voualsk militia. They didn't trust him – they feared this new man was still MGB. It was entirely possible that this newly transferred man was here to spy on them. One report could destroy them all.

Reaching his office, Nesterov entered and closed the door behind him. He had an assignment to send those two men on, and he didn't particularly know whether they were competent enough whilst working together.

He had to send Leo and Moiseyev to Orphanage 80, a renovated factory that housed an almost inhuman quantity of vagabond and orphaned children. They needed to use two men in uniform to get in – the orphanage director wouldn't be ecstatic about their presence in his building, and certainly wouldn't welcome them with open arms if they looked like a couple of ordinary civilian men.

The thing that bugged Nesterov the most, was the fact that he was not accompanying Leo on the mission. He didn't trust Moiseyev – the way he acted around Leo could be taken two ways.  
The first way, was that he was ostracising Leo, and trying to make him feel uncomfortable.  
The second way, was that he was being flirtatious with Leo, and making playful banter with him. The second thought made Nesterov uncomfortable to no end, and he would rather be on the mission, keeping his eye on Moiseyev, and his questionable behaviour.

He stood, a solid and serious expression upon his face. He wouldn't sit here, and think about how much he regretted not being able to defend Leo from his own militia's advances; No. He would do something about it. Not directly; Moiseyev may spread it around that Nesterov was 'concerned' for Leo's safety.

He'd be subtle about it.

Keeping that thought in mind, he made his way down to Moiseyev and Leo's shared office, and opened the closed door. Looking around, he felt his heart sink, as he realised that the office was empty.  
Leo and Moiseyev had already left on their mission.


	3. Chapter 3: Conflict

**READ THIS FIRST, BITCHES.**

Fuckow.** I'm on a roll. **I own nothing, "Child 44" belongs to Tom Rob Smith.

Everybody, can I get a cheer for pervy, possessive Nesterov?

Crickets chirping

...

Anyway.

_This is someone talking. This is how the original book was written._

Same Day

Leo and Moiseyev were standing before Orphanage 80; a five-storey brick building, with a line of tall chimney stacks along the rooftop, and fading white print on the wall, reading: WORK HARD LIVE LONG. Leo sighed as he looked up at the building, and sneaked a glance at Moiseyev by his side.  
The man was looking toward the door of the Orphanage, but looked over at Leo, who snapped his glance away quickly.  
That man had a peculiar air about him. Shaking off that feeling, Leo broke the uneasy silence.

_Let's get this over with._

Moiseyev nodded, and the two uniformed officers moved up to the doorway of the Orphanage. Leo stepped forward and knocked, and stepped back again. Then, he and Moiseyev waited, hearing the muffled noises of Orphanage life inside the building; children talking, shouting, and the hustle and bustle of footsteps. Finally, after a long pause, the door of the Orphanage opened, revealing an aging man, holding a ring with about a thousand different sized keys on it in one hand. He was obviously the Orphanage director.  
His expression was one of evident annoyance, but that changed when he saw Leo and Moiseyev's militia uniforms.

He dropped his head in reverent deference before he finally spoke to them.

_What can I do for you?_

Leo stepped forward to answer.

_We're here about the murdered boy._

The director nodded solemnly, and motioned for the two officers to follow him through the entry hall. They entered the main hall, which Leo immediately recognised to have been the factory floor before the building's original renovations. It had been converted into some sort of mess hall, and there were a plethora of orphans, all sitting cross-legged on the floor. There were so many children, that they were pressed up against each other due to the limited space. They were eating cabbage soup, and the scene was rather saddening. Leo averted his eyes, remembering the two orphaned girls from the farm, feeling nausea overtake him briefly.

The elderly man led the two officers to his own office, up on the first floor of the five total storeys.

Moiseyev sat down, and Leo remained standing. Leo felt eyes upon him, and turned to his co-officer. Moiseyev was smiling at him, and Leo paled when he saw something else in that expression of his.

When Leo and Moiseyev returned to the militia department, it was already dark.

Nesterov looked out his window, watching as the two officers got out of the car they'd taken to the Orphanage, and began to panic when he thought they were engrossed in a deep, meaningful conversation. Both Leo and Moiseyev were animated – making hand gestures, and moving their heads about.  
However, as the two got closer to the door, Nesterov was oddly happy to realise they were arguing.

He watched and listened as they entered the department building, shouting at one another. Nesterov seemed to have tuned into the last half of the argument, and the subject of conflict was already lost on him.

_You're making it very difficult to work with you, Moiseyev. I really can't work like this._

_You're too narrow-minded. No wonder you were an MGB officer._

_I'm just saying that maybe you should concentrate a little more on work, than your own peculiar pursuits._

_Stop being so controlling._

Leo rolled his eyes, and walked down one of the hallways, and Moiseyev shot him an acidic glare of distaste. Nesterov remained where he stood, peering around the door-frame of his office; he couldn't understand what his two subordinates were arguing about. Or, why the mission took so much longer than it should have taken.  
Nesterov shook his head, and decided to put his plan into action. Moving out of his office, as casually and composed as he could possibly manage under the current circumstances, he approached Moiseyev, who was now lighting up a cigarette.

_What happened there? _

_Leo is too narrow-minded._

_No, I mean why did the mission take you so long?_

Moiseyev showed no physical response, and made no verbal response either. Instead, he blew out a cloud of cigarette smoke, eyes cast downwards – not in shame, more in indifference to his superior officer.

_Look, I want you to be careful around Leo._

Now, it was Moiseyev's turn to ask the questions.

_Why?_

_He used to be MGB. Very little information was given to me when he was transferred here, and the information I did receive wasn't particularly clear. So, I want you to take precautions around him – don't give him information, don't get too close to him. If he's still MGB, we're all at risk._

Moiseyev seemed to understand, and nodded, finally looking Nesterov in the eye. Nesterov nodded once in response, satisfied at the result he'd gotten from his officer. He dismissed Moiseyev, and moved down the other hallway.

Now, he'd go talk to Leo. 


	4. Chapter 4: Mapping

**READ THIS FIRST, BITCHES.**

Hwoar. I foresee porn in Leo's future.

Hurr. Maybe.

I'm not good at writing porn, no matter how great it is.

So, sorry, no porn yet, this chapter. You'll have to wait.

Hoorah for creepy/obsessive/possessive/pervertish Nesterov.

… He's nothing like that in the book – he's more like "'LLKILLYOUSOMETIME".

True story.

I own nothing. **"Child 44" **belongs to the great Tom Rob Smith, himself.

_~ This is someone talking. This is how it was written in the original book, but with a dash, rather than a squiggly line. This document is being a bastard and erasing them. _O^O

Leo was in one of the office-rooms, looking at a map of Soviet Russian territory. It was the one that mapped out the locations of the murders that had taken place, each individual criminal event marked with a little pin, which was marked with a red wax tip. Nesterov watched him from the door, wondering why he was looking at the map now; his and Moiseyev's shifts ended over an hour ago, and it was reaching the time that Leo should really return to his residence at Basarov's, and to his awaiting wife, Raisa. Nesterov felt his chest cavity constrict at that thought, and his grimaces, squeezing both his dark eyes closed, turning away from the office momentarily. Regaining his composure, he sighed, and turned back to his junior officer.

~ _Leo, what on earth happened with Moiseyev, back there?_

Leo shot an aggravated glance at Nesterov, and shrugged the earlier comment off, letting a tense and awkward silence fall between them both, which hung there like a noxious clouds of mustard gas. Threatening to smother them both.

_~ Nothing happened. He's just..._

Nesterov watched Leo struggling to find the right words, the ones that would pinpoint his exact emotions on the subject of whatever Moiseyev had done to make him so angry. Knowing what had happened would help Nesterov's situation so much more.

Leo's eyes flickered over temporarily when he finally stumbled on the right words.

~_Disgusting._

Nesterov's expression faltered when that word raised further questions about what had happened between his two officers at the orphanage. He glanced between Leo and the map, trying to divert his attention from his own interests. He needed to help Leo with whatever problems he was having right now. That was an inherent obligation, that came with his job as this officer's superior.

~_What do you mean, 'disgusting', Leo?_

Leo sighed, not even turning to face him. He ran a hand through his blonde hair, which was messy and unwashed from the stress of his current transfer. He then leaned against the wall, looking more tired than Nesterov had ever seen him before, like the trip to the orphanage had left him totally exasperated, like it had sapped every last ounce of strength he had. Nesterov was becoming ever more agitated, with every second – every minute – that Leo withheld his silence. Nesterov just wanted him to open up to him a little more. Then, he could take things from there.

_~ It means nothing, Nesterov._

Nesterov was becoming increasingly agitated by Leo's persistence at keeping secrets from him. He decided to try a new angle at this.

_~ Leo, as your superior, I am fully entitled to demand that you tell me every detail of your mission._

_~ There is nothing to tell._

That was point; maybe there was nothing to be shared between them about the mission. Maybe nothing happened – perhaps Moiseyev made a snide or disgusting comment about the living conditions of the orphans in that dreadful place he sent them to. Maybe this whole thing was smaller than it first seemed, and Nesterov was just overreacting.

_~ I just don't want to go on missions with Moiseyev any more._

Nesterov looked over at Leo, who was facing him, one-on-one now. His eyes were serious – two swirling vortexes of something troubling, lying, just beneath the surface.

That noticeable detail, and Leo's previous comment, caused the knot in Nesterov's stomach to return, three times worse than it was before. He swallowed, trying to slow his heart's pulse from near-heart-attack, to that of a calmer human being.

_~ Why not?_

_~ I don't want to go on missions with him any more.  
~ There must more of a reason than that._

_~ I don't like him._

_~ There must be a reason for that, too._

Leo sighed, shaking his head, obviously getting frustrated with, what seemed to him as, Nesterov being suspicious of him again. This was confirmed when he spoke once again, breaking the new, unsettling silence between the two militia officers:

_~ I'm no longer MGB, Nesterov._

Nesterov nodded in acknowledgement, not letting his guard down, just yet. He had to be careful if he wanted Leo to open up to him. To his surprise, Leo continued to speak, despite the tension in the air around them both.

_~ I realise you don't trust me, but you'll have to, just this once._

_~ What is it you want me to trust you on?_

_~ I no longer want to work alongside Moiseyev._

Nesterov's frustration brimmed at the edges when Leo began to move away, past him, and toward the door of the offices. Gritting his teeth, his jaw suddenly tightening, he didn't think about what to do next – he just acted. His hand shot out, gripping Leo's wrist, tightening around the appendage.

Nesterov's tone of voice had turned dangerous, as he spoke:

_~ You didn't answer me, Leo._

Leo bared his teeth, looking both annoyed and angered, both at the same time. He pulled at Nesterov's grasp a little, looking increasingly uncomfortable with his superior officer's prying.

He was shorter, and smaller than Nesterov – he was strong, yes, but was still lean. Nesterov had the strength of a seasoned body-builder – he could easily take Leo down. But, despite this, Leo was persistent, and resisted the man's grip with undue anger.

_~ Let go of me._

_~ Not until you answer me, Leo._

_~ I said let go of me._

The younger officer jerked his arm away roughly, looking at Nesterov with slight derision. That emotion of derision was mixed with hurt, secrecy, and something else. Something that Nesterov could not decode, yet, all at the same time, could not miss.

Leo's anger dissipated as the silence, stirred up by the raised voices, and frustration between the two officers, resettled over them, like the dust of a battlefield after a long war. The younger officer adjusted his coat, looking Nesterov in the eye, clearing his throat a little.

_~ Admittedly, I am not comfortable with this transfer; no one who was in my position, and was put into this position would be. However, I am getting used to it, though slowly, and, now that I am no longer a standing member of the MGB according to the State, I am hoping to change this unfortunate turn of events into a positive. I'm hoping it's an opportunity to make people trust me again. If not making this a positive for myself, perhaps for others; for my family, for my wife._

Leo began moving toward the door.

_~ After all. Who could love a cold-hearted member of the MGB?_

The younger officer stepped out of the door, his footfalls echoing down the presumably empty hallway, the sounds slowly dissipating as Leo moved farther and farther away. Nesterov sighed, the lump in his stomach moving into his throat, threatening to choke him to death. He tried his best to shake the feeling away, but it clung to him like a feeble parasite. He turned to the door, where, just moments before, the one he loved had been standing.

_~ I could._

His expression fell, and he had to drag his eyes up to the map, the one that Leo had been scrutinising so closely before their conversation. His heart skipped a beat when he saw it; a new pin jutted out of the map, one that hadn't been there, before Leo had entered the officer.

The red wax pin was marking Orphanage 80.

**CLIFFHANGER. FUCK YEAH.**

Sorry to all reading (what, yeah, like, no one) for the long wait. I'm bored, so I was like, "TYPE, THEN YOU CAN CALL MICHAEL" - AND NOW I'M FINISHED, MIKE, WHERE'S MY SEX.

Michael: **Cries for Nesterov**

OH MAN, COME ON. Why are my stories such a turn-off...?_  
_


End file.
